It has officially been two weeks since we transitioned our little one from my bedside to her nursery- a move I had dreaded since the day she was born. From that first day, I was neurotic about watching her sleep- sometimes placing a fingertip on her little chest to make extra sure she was breathing.

When we were expecting, my husband and I were clueless as to what we would need when Maddie Mae arrived. In fact, after nursery furniture was purchased my husband said to me, "that's pretty much it, right?" Not so much.

Most nights, my husband will bring me an ice-cold glass of water and place it on my nightstand; and in the morning, he will lay out two Nespresso pods, a Splenda and a mug for my morning coffee. These sweet gestures are two of my favorite things in life- simple signs of "I love you," sure to put a smile on my face. 

The past few weeks have been a learning experience for everyone in this household; with the biggest student, perhaps, being yours truly.  I've learned so much since the birth of my daughter, much of which has completely redefined words I once thought I had understood. 

As I've mentioned before, most of our time this summer has been spent at home, protecting miss Maddie from the heat and all those nasty germs. It's been hard not to get a little stir crazy, particularly when I exhausted the best of Netflix and Hulu during my pregnancy.

I've always been a sucker for a delicious smoothie.  Green + Tonic: Love your Ultimate Warrior. Juice Press:  Harvey Wallbanger is my JAM. But with the little monkey not being able to go out in public just yet- two months, you are so close I can taste ya- it has been a challenge to get my healthy smoothie on.  And, honestly, the thought of having to pack her up and lug her to my favorite juicery seems like quite the ordeal for a measly juice.  So when my way-too-generous mother sent me my very own Vitamix, I did a little happy dance.

In my pre-pregnancy life, I was an avid Soul Cyclist. I rode at least five times a week- particularly in the year leading up to my pregnancy, during which fertility treatments wreaked havoc on my mind and body.  Riding was my therapy, keeping me strong both mentally and physically for the journey ahead.

It became part of my every day routine, and I had so badly wanted to be one of those little pregnant women that happily pedaled all the way into their third trimester.  So when complications kept me from riding throughout my pregnancy, it was challenging. I was frustrated with my body, now so foreign to me; and struggled to find an alternative outlet to ease my anxieties. I walked and practiced yoga, but it just wasn't the same.